Georgie laughed prettily. “He is far from mythical, my dear—though at times, during the night, I suspect he may be demonic.”
“You mustn’t say such things,” Lady Tolliver chided, beaming as she stood and reached for the child. “He is an angel, my darling Henry. The very picture of his grandfather.”
“Poor mite,” murmured Lottie, as she took her seat, still without curtseying to the duke.
He nodded to her. “Miss Tolliver,” the duke said, his tone perfectly courteous. “How fortunate that you are back amongst your family.”
Lottie inclined her head in return, reaching to butter a roll. “Fortunate indeed, Your Grace.”
Lord Tolliver looked between them, clearly delighted by the appearance of civility. “How pleasant! We are all together again at last. Save for your elder brother.”
“Oh, indeed,” sighed Lady Tolliver, patting the baby’s bottom. “All my daughters together again and our son gallivanting across the continent. Just as it used to be.”
Theo’s gaze flickered to Lottie sharply, before he looked away.
Lottie reached for her teacup. “Yes,” she said lightly. “Quite the happy reunion.”
Chapter 3
Lady Tolliver, having summoned all her daughters for both breakfast and luncheon thereafter, was in magnanimous form as she sat beneath the great elm at the rear of the Tolliver townhouse.
The footmen had drawn chairs in shifting constellations beneath the tree, and the Tollivers had assembled to continue their favourite familial pastimes: gossip, eating, and alarming one another.
Lottie sat with her back against the tree’s trunk, a plate balanced carelessly in her lap, as she listened to her mother drone on about the Ferringtons, who simplymusthave mortgaged half their estate to afford such ostentation.
“Now that you are quite restored to us, dearest Charlotte,” Lady Tolliver said at last, dabbing delicately at her lips, “we must speak of your return to Society. I have every faith you shall be married before the summer is out.”
Lottie lowered her sandwich. “Married? Good heavens, Mama. I have only just regained my freedom. Must I surrender it again so soon?”
Lady Tolliver looked horrified. “Freedom? Matrimony is not imprisonment, Charlotte.”
“No, not imprisonment, Mama,” said Lottie. “Merely indentured servanthood. I have no wish to serve as a gentleman’s decorative breeding mare.”
“Charlotte Anne Marie Tolliver!”
Across the table, seated upon a garden chair, Hetty groaned and pressed a hand atop her prodigiously rounded belly. “Oh, Lottie.”
“Do not look so pained, dear sister. I am not referring to your person. You are positively glowing with domestic bliss. Though the evidence suggests the enterprise of manufacturing the next Viscount Langley is considerably more unpleasant than advertised.”
“Indeed. I am the size of a small carriage,” Hetty replied, sighing, “and I have not seen my feet in a fortnight.”
Lottie gave her a critical once-over. “You are. Enormous, I mean. I should not be in the least surprised if it were twins.”
Hetty laughed, then winced. “You have now informed me of it twice. It is a most dreadful thing to say to a woman in my condition.”
“Quite dreadful,” said Lord Langley, carving the pheasant beside her. “Though I confess, I rather hope it is twin boys. Then perhaps I shall never again be obliged to endure a pregnant wife, nor prevent unruly daughters from running off with scoundrels in the dead of night.”
“Why, Lord Langley,” said Lottie, “I believe that remark was directed at me.”
“You are this family’s most instructive cautionary tale,” Theo replied. “And yet, by some remarkable perversity, its most enthusiastic champion.”
“Precisely,” said Lottie. “I see no reason to attempt a thing if one does not mean to excel at it.”
Georgiana, tickling baby Henry’s feet, said mildly, “Would someone pass the bread before Lottie begins quoting Mrs Wollstonecraft?”
The baby squealed and kicked his tiny feet.
Lady Tolliver’s hands flew to her mouth. “Did you hear that? Henry spoke! He shall be a brilliant orator.”
